


this is what we do

by medeadea



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Future Fic, Kinda, M/M, Yaku has an epiphany
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-07 14:56:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5460524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medeadea/pseuds/medeadea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What the hell do you do when your hot as fuck teammate – who is coincidentally also your flatmate – flirts with you in the most outrageous fashion, no joke, all the stops pulled out?</p><p>Morisuke freaks out for a bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this is what we do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [renaissance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/renaissance/gifts).



> Happy Holidays!

Morisuke is losing his mind. There’s no other way to explain this… this _madness!_

Or whatever it is.

In any case he has to ignore it and move on. How does it go? _‘Conceal, don’t feel.’_

Yeah, right.

No wonder that shit ended badly, people are horrible at keeping stuff hidden when they are freaked out, Morisuke just as much as anyone.

But what the hell do you do when your hot as fuck teammate – who is _coincidentally_ also your flatmate – flirts with you in the most outrageous fashion, no joke, all the stops pulled out?

And he has been for _months?_

_And you only just realized?_

It’s simply too much for his small brain to comprehend, Morisuke concludes, and flees outside.

That, of course, like so many decisions made under the influence of utter panic, ends up being a bad idea. Because it is freakishly cold, as it usually is at the end of december and in the middle of the night.

Morisuke shivers and frisks his hoodie. At least he has his wallet and his keys, so he concludes he can calm his nerves with a pint – or five – in the pub around the corner.

 

Roughly an hour later he hasn’t progressed a bit, his thoughts still going around in the same blasted circles of hope and self doubt and outrage, and _drinking himself stupid isn’t a solution at all_ Morisuke tells the last dregs of foam on his not even halfway finished first pint.

So he gets up, pays at the counter and marches back home.

Kuroo is sat in his velvet armchair and reads a book. Like the git he always is, as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened.

Morisuke walks over, still in his boots, like the savage _he_ is, and stands directly in front of Kuroo, hands forced to stillness at his sides.

Kuroo glances up from his book and lifts one brow. Morisuke ponders the perfect arch it makes like that.

“So you’re back. Everything alright?” Kuroo asks, completely clueless. And Morisuke slowly breathes in and breathes out again.

“You’ve been flirting with me. Why?” he wants to know. Being direct is probably the best solution. Hopefully.

Kuroo frowns and his mouth tightens a bit wobbly, but then he grins.

“Why do people flirt, what do you think?”

Folding his arms, Morisuke frowns and lightly kicks Kuroo’s foot that is hanging from the chair.

“Don’t hedge, Kuroo. I want to know why _you’re_ flirting with _me_. _Like a madman_.”

Now Kuroo is frowning, too. He sits up in his chair, puts his book away and plants his feet on the ground. Even has the audacity to look up at Morisuke defiantly.

“Well, fuck, Yaku. If you really need to have it spelled out, it’s because I like you. _Romantically._ I wanna hug you. Smooch you. Fuck you. _Whatever_. Is that enough of an answer?”

“Yes.” Morisuke nods emphatically. Then he steps forward and climbs on Kuroo’s lap. He puts his hands on both of Kuroo’s cheeks and presses his lips to Kuroo’s.

Kuroo is startled at first but recovers fast. He slings his arms around Morisuke’s back and pulls him forward. His tongue swipes along the seam of Morisuke’s lips and they deepen their kiss, both letting go of a moan at the same time, enjoying the increasing heat. When they finally separate again as Morisuke leans back, a fine line of spit connects their lips for a second. Kuroo licks it away and smiles broadly.

“You taste like beer,” he says and bumps his forehead against Morisuke’s.

“Well, I was at the pub. Can we continue now?” Morisuke asks, somewhat whiny if he’s being honest.

“Yes,” Kuroo answers.

And that’s what they do.


End file.
